The forest didn't breathe. It just stayed still.
That was the first thing I noticed. No wind. No rustling leaves. Not even the sound of bugs. It was like we'd stepped into a photograph that hadn't finished developing.
Everything felt like it was out of place. Like it wasn't to be there.
Zayden walked like he knew the way, even though the path kept shifting. Sometimes roots weren't there until my foot hit them. Sometimes the trees leaned in like they were listening. Like they laughed silently at me tripping and falling face flat. Zayden didn't even look back, or try to pick me up.
And then—
The trees parted.
Not like before. This time it was like they obeyed. The branches bowed. The darkness peeled back. Like respect.
And beyond it: firelight.
A clearing, ringed with stone towers and pale wooden spires that seemed grown from the ground itself. The forest stopped at its edge, like it couldn't pass through. Like this place was older than the woods around it. It was eye-catching...it was beautiful and majestic. Something Zayden would like.
It wasn't a castle.
It was a den.
The Hollow.
I stepped inside.
Warmth. Not heat, but a low pulsing warmth—like something alive and sleeping beneath the earth. People moved in the shadows. Not people. Wolves. Some fully shifted, some half, some wearing furs and armor that looked stitched from moonlight and bone.
They bowed as Zayden passed and I noticed my mark was numb.
They didn't speak. Just lowered their heads like instinct commanded them to.
A girl—young, with braids and amber eyes—rushed up and handed him a robe lined with fur. He shrugged it on, said nothing. She looked small but I can bet she's older than I am.
And I just stood there, a little too cold and a lot too out of place.
And every single pair of eyes turned to me. Like they hated my very existence. They murmured in a language I obviously didn't understand and I didn't feel like getting cocky...I just wanted to leave.
But I could feel it in my bones: I wasn't welcome.
But I was claimed.
And that scared them more than it scared me.
****
Later, in private — Zayden's quarters.
He led me through stone halls, barely saying a word. The Hollow was quieter inside than I expected. No howls. No laughter. Just the low crackle of distant fires and the occasional scrape of claw on stone. It was like a sanctuary... for inner peace.
Finally, we reached his room.
It wasn't a bedroom. It was a chamber.
Dark wood and fur. Moonlight through narrow, carved slits in the wall. The air smelled like pine, old books, and something I couldn't place—something sharp. Like copper and heat and blood?
I staggered.
The mark on my arm flared. Suddenly my mark decided to awaken.
Zayden turned sharply, eyes locking on me. His jaw clenched. He didn't seem happy.
"I told them to prepare a separate room," he said roughly. "But it's not safe for you to be away from me tonight."
"Why?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then he sized me up... maintaining eye contact. Like he's checking if I'd break. He held my arms. My muscular arms looked like chopsticks compared to his.
He smirked like he just had a nasty thought and I looked at him, curious.
"I'm changing." he growled.
I blinked. "You mean—like, shifting?"
"No," he said, voice low. "I'm in heat."
I blinked again.
"What do you mean, heat? Like rutting season heat?! Like—"
"Yes..."
He looked away.
"It started early."
"Why?"
"You."
That one word knocked the breath from my lungs. I might admire him. He is majestic and beautiful but he wants to—"